


Peppermint and the Psilocin Psillies

by ThePrincessOfPirates



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: M/M, and i guess you could technically say that dick goes into "heat", but it would fall under the federal age of consent so i marked it for that, everyone does bad things to dick, no one is free of sin, there's drugs, this is not underage in my state or the state where it is set
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9073000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePrincessOfPirates/pseuds/ThePrincessOfPirates
Summary: Psillies, noun (slang), the state of euphoria and laughter caused by low doses of psilocybin mushrooms.
A little bit of psilocin, a little bit of Quaaludes, and one chilly Christmas Eve lead to an interesting night for our boy wonder, his foe, that foe's goonies, and, in the end, the most eligible bachelor in Gotham, Bruce Wayne.





	

“Such a pretty boy!” The Joker cackles, tugging on a ribbon and by extension tugging his hips high into the air. The whole harness system is made entirely from Christmas present ribbon and holds his abdomen along with his ankles and wrists suspended above the warehouse floor. This is the second Christmas in a row that something like this has happened but last time he wasn't the one strung up.

The physics of the system confuses his greatly as the Joker tugs on another pulley and yanks his feet above his head. There's peppermint spit dribbling at the corners of his mouth from some weird candy gag and the sweater he was changed into during the god awful hour he was unconscious is itching.

“Boss we're ready to come back on.” A young man with red hair in dizzying curls stands behind the large camera. This is a pretty professional setup for a kidnapping, lights at every angle and a fairly well behaved crew.

“You're on kid!” Joker tugs his hair, contorting his neck into an uncomfortable angle.

“Mfffa!” He jerks as best he can but can't get away from the grip.

“Oh can it, there's nothing you can do.” The man growls, yanking even harder on his hair.

“And we're on air in 3... 2...” The technician only mouths the one, but the show starts right on que.

“Oh Batman! I've got quite the Christmas present for you this year. Even better than the last. If you can avoid all of the traps I've set for you, boy wonder here goes free to watch It's A Wonderful Life in peace. If not... Well I'll leave that up to your imagination. Come get him! Oh and one more thing-” Dick tries to swing an elbow at his captor, cutting on the speech.

“You insolent brat! Didn't that goody two shoes daddy of yours, Batman, teach you any manners?” He pulls a syringe from his coat pocket and jams it into an exposed part of Dick's stomach, making the young man scream in pain. “Good luck fighting with that in your blood. What I meant to say before this boy of yours rudely interrupted, is that I may or may not have joined forces with a few of our special friends so don't expect this to be the normal charade.”

The camera cuts and things simmer back down again. Dick still pulls against the restraints but his brain is growing foggy and everything's starting to feel soft.

“I think I got the money shot on that one if you're already giving up. There's an artery in the stomach, right?” One of the goons shrugs. “Well I think you'll be much more compliant now.” Joker unhooks the gag and spins it around on his finger.

“Fuck you!” Dick weakly spits a splatter of peppermint saliva onto his captor's shoes.

“Rude! See if I care when the psilocin kicks in and you don't know up from down. I was just trying to give you the opportunity to speak up. Lord knows you've been strung up there long enough to maybe need a pee break.” He goes to put the gag back on.

“Wait!” Dick tugs at the restraints again.

“Do you have something nice to say this time?” He kneels down so they were face to face.

“I do actually have to pee.” Dick tries to avoid making eye contact with the man.

“This isn't some sort of escape scheme, is it? You know how lonely I'll be without you.” Joker fake pouts and strokes a hand over the young man's face.

“No, I really just have to pee.” The pit of his stomach is chilling and the Joker seems to be right about that whole not knowing up from down thing. Things are getting hazier by the second.

“Alright, I guess in your current state you can be trusted.” Another tug into the complex pulley system and Dick drops right to the floor. It's not far, but its enough to smart.

“You could have lowered me down.” The pain isn't helping with how weird all of his limbs are starting to feel.

“You are in no position to make demands, little birdy.” Joker sneers, looking disgusted. He grabs the two ribbons attached to Dick's hands and ties them together in a tight knot.

The bathroom that the goons lead him to has no door but it's clean which is nice. Getting dizzier by the second, one of them has to undo the intricate ribbon work of a harness encasing his hips. He's got big strong hands and lets Dick lean against him while he untangles the mess. Everything feels warm and soft and he wants to vomit but also take a nap or maybe make out with someone. Drugs never went through his system like they should. Sometimes he wished he could be more like Batman, keep fighting even after the poison's started to make everything go black but he just didn't have the strength.

“Pants off, just sit to pee. Easier for all of us.” The man's Russian accent is calming yet gruff.

“You sound like Russian Batman.” Dick giggles a little.

“That kid is out of it!” Another man, a blond, much smaller and compared to the dark haired, hulking, Russian has his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket.

Dick finishes pretty quickly and shuffles out, pants still around his ankles.

“Help, please, it's cold.” He pouts, cheeks red from embarrassment and the flush currently running through his veins.

“Don't worry kid, I got ya.” The blond one jumps in right away to fix the buttons up. He struggles to do the belt buckle from in front but figures it out eventually. “You're looking a little unsteady, do you want me to keep you upright?”

“Yes please, thank you.” Dick leans into the support provided by the arm around his waist.

“You've got much better manners when you're stoned out of your mind.” He ruffles the boy's hair.

“You're warm and pretty. I like you.” Dick mumbles and closes his eyes, letting himself be led down the hall.

“What the hell did boss give him?” The Russian man breaks his silence.

“Lord if I know. I don't care what it is, I'm just glad he's not taking swings anymore. The tactile affection is just an awkward plus.” He shrugs, bumping the boy's head but he doesn't move.

“Did he cooperate?” Joker's sitting quietly in one of the set's recliners.

“More than that. What did you put in that? He's getting all lovey dovey on me.” He tries to push Dick away but he whines and leans in harder.

“I don't keep track of that sort of thing, I haven't got the time for it.” Joker huffs. “He seems pretty attached to you.” Joker notes how the goon is doing his best to separate himself from the sidekick and how it's just not working.

“I like him, he smells nice. Russian man smells nice too. Your men smell nice. Boys smell nice. I like boys.” Dick smiles blissfully with his nose buried in the crook of Blond Man's (as he's internally referring to him) neck.

“Hold on, that's not a socially acceptable thing for a superhero to admit to for another twenty years. Wait...” The clown pauses, pondering for a second. “When the hell have I ever cared what's socially acceptable?” He steps down off of the set, sauntering towards his leverage in this whole situation with Batman.

“You smell like cologne.” Dick finally pulls away from the distraught guard.

“Well I do try to keep myself presentable in every sense of the word.” Joker chuckles at his own pun. “Say, birdy, would you like to do something really fun?”

“You're a bad guy, what if it's a trap? I can't trust him if it's gonna be a trap.” He says the last sentence to the hulking Russian.

“Oh no no no, no trap. Just a fun way to pass the time until Bat-brains gets here. You'll get to spend more time with the nice smelling boys.” Even the goons around him are looking at him funny.

“Well if it's not a trap I guess it's okay.” Dick sways a little side to side.

“Boss, what exactly are you tryna do here?” The shorter of the two guards speaks up.

“Carpe diem, my friend. We have ourselves a wonderful opportunity to screw over the Batman big time by well... Screwing his sidekick.” He cackles. “You don't have to if you don't want to, but I certainly think you'll have fun. Whadya say?”

It's an hour or two later and Dick's sleeping in the back of the Batmobile. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary so Batman had just dropped the crooks off at the local police station and thrown the kid in the back seat of the car. Sure there were a few bruises on him but that was to be expected and Joker had changed him back into his original clothes (and out of the ugly Christmas sweater) but that might have just been a courtesy.

“Bruce?” The boy starts to awaken from his nap.

“Feeling better? Joker gave you some serious stuff. I'm not even sure what half of it is but the computer said it should be out of your system by tomorrow.” Bruce looks at him in the rear view mirror.

“I had fun.” Dick mumbles, somewhat into the leather seats.

“Fun, really? Well there were certainly enough Quaalude in your blood stream to make anything seem like fun.” Bruce chuckles, the hum of the engine bleeding into the quiet of the cabin.

“No, real fun. We played a game.” He pulls himself into a somewhat upright position, his head swaying side to side on his shoulders.

“What game did you play? Chess? Poker? I've heard he cheats something awful when it comes to poker.” Bruce is playing along, trying to keep the boy entertained so he doesn't fiddle with anything in his stupor.

“No, it was a new game.” Dick closes his eyes and giggles. “He fucked me silly.”

The car comes to a screeching halt, Bruce slamming on the breaks.

“What?!” Bruce has gone into full panic mode as he shifts the car into park. They're on some small side road on the way back to Wayne manor.

“That's what he said. 'Why, little birdy, you're absolutely fucked silly! Is Robin even still in there?'” He performed the quote in a comedic over the top impression.

“Oh my God, Dick, are you okay? Did he hurt you? I'm so sorry! I should have gotten there sooner...” He's rambling as he climbs into the back of the car next to his sidekick.

“No, I said I had fun. I liked it. It was a great game.” Dick has a blissful smile on his face.

“He took advantage of you. You need to sleep. You're not in a good place right now.” Bruce ran a hand over the boy wonder's face.

“I said I had fun. I think about stuff like that a lot. Bad stuff.” Dick leans into the touch. “Like getting caught by bad guys. It makes my tummy feel tickly. You too. I think bad thoughts about you. I think about kissing you a lot. You smell like aftershave and being next to you makes me happy. I need to stop thinking bad thoughts about you. I like that you have big hands. Sometimes I wonder what those hands would feel like on my hips or on my back or just anywhere worth touching.”

“Dick, please just be quiet and rest. You need to sleep.” Bruce tries to pull away now but Dick whines and leans in further.

“But I don't want to sleep. I want to kiss more boys. You're a pretty boy, I want to kiss you.” Dick huffs and pouts.

“Dick Grayson, do as I say!” He growls, his voice turning deep and gravely.

“C'mon, I'm so hot, I can't stand it!” Dick grabs a fistful of the Batman costume halting Bruce from getting to the driver's seat again.

Bruce doesn’t reply, only reaches for the seat belt to the boy's seat.

“No! Don't do that!” Dick screams, pushing and shoving his patron away.

“Fine, we'll do this the hard way.” Bruce presses a button on the control panel next to the door. Restraints blossom from the sides of the seat and automatically and mechanically wrap their victim up, pulling him tight against the leather.

“Please, let me out! I'll be a good boy if you just let me out.” Dick tries bargaining for the whole way home. “I'll do anything.” The last sentence is said with a certain... tone to it one that suggests that more than just chores are included in that “anything.”

“Don't you dare, Bruce” His conscious is gnawing at him. “You're Batman for God's sake, keep your shit together. You're better than your animal instincts.”

Dick must have noticed the pensive look in Bruce's eyes, probably staring at him in the rear view mirror, because he too stops.

“I won't be taking advantage of me, you know.” Dick seems slightly more sober. “I mean, you've probably noticed by now that I've been trying to get under that lycra for months. I should have thought of just being blunt with you before. I think bad thoughts about you and I want them to be real.”

Bruce steels himself and clenches his jaw.

“I'm 16, y'know. By New Jersey law you're in the clear.” Dick waits, silently counting the seconds, hoping for a reply.

“Alfred,” he's turned on the comlink. “I won't be needing any assistance when I arrive. Go to bed early. Merry Christmas.”

“Alright, sir. Merry Christmas.” The communication cuts out.

“Only once. Only because you are going to make a nuisance of yourself otherwise. Only because I think you might not sleep otherwise. There is not going to be a next time for any of what's about to happen.” Bruce glances at his young apprentice in the mirror. “Do you understand.”

“Of course I do, Bruce. Is this part of my Christmas gifts?”

“Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is late and messy and vague, but if you enjoy it, I'll write the scenes missing in between. Happy Chanukah/Boxing Day/First Day of Kwanzaa depending on what you're celebrating. (Wait, would anyone want an eight days of Chanukah fic challenge? There is time left for such things!)


End file.
